There is something else. Every now and then, when the group pauses, you think you hear something. A wet snuffling sound, like a dog sniffing the wind. The slap of footsteps, coming from one of the many side passages that run parallel to the main one that you are following. It is as though someone or something is stalking you in these blind, labyrinthine caves.
The first two times you hear it, it might just be your imagination. But the third time—which occurs as Cormac calls a halt, Kitty turns on her flashlight, and people pass around the water bottle and bite into chocolate bars—is undeniable. You are standing beside Cormac when you hear it.
I call the group's attention to the sound.
I quietly ask Cormac if he hears it too.
I keep it to myself.
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